


if you must go

by antiheroblake



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Kid Loki and Kid Thor (Marvel), Marvel Universe, Post-Thor (2011), Pre-Thor (2011), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antiheroblake/pseuds/antiheroblake
Summary: She spent every summer in the castle of Asgard. When she turns the Midgardian age of 21 she will have to choose which brother she should marry to create an alliance with her people and his. Things do not work out that way.
Relationships: Jane Foster/Thor, Loki Laufeyson/Original Female Character, Thor & Original Female Character, avengers & original female character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

The first time they meet, she is no older than six. Loki is, in human terms, one year older than her but feels, just from watching her glide through the grand throne room, that she is so much older than him. She has the grace one would expect of a princess-goddess, of course, but it is apparent her governess and parents have brought her up strictly. She's young, but she is poised.

When she and her family finally come to stand before the royal family of Asgard, she stands beside her mother. The ruffled dress she wears is unlike anything either of the boys has seen on their planet, the avant-garde fabric sways around her tiny body faintly with the breeze that moves through the open windows. Loki notices this, even at the young age of seven. He observes how she moves across the room and how her dress engulfs her body like a puff pastry. No one would wear something like that on Asgard.

His brother, a solid eight years old, does not care to watch the girl being presented before them. He does not care that his father says that in the future she'll marry one of them, nor does he care that the girl does not look at him with her swirling eyes of gold. Thor's mind is consumed, always consumed, with trivial nonsense. This isn't real to him, it's a game.

Loki doesn't speak to her. That isn't permitted at this moment. Instead, he stands behind his mother and watches as the king of Centarui talks to his father. He's still too young to fully comprehend why they've come to Asgard, marriage is still so abstract in his mind, but he knows that whatever all of this is, it will follow him for the rest of his life.

Instead of focusing on the conversation their parents are having, he watches her, as he has done with everyone. He is determined to discover every characteristic about her at that moment, to go ahead, and make assumptions about what she is like. The prince knows that Centaruian's are known for their intellect even at a young age. The planet cultivates scholars before anything else. However, he knows that intelligence has a cost. That cost, he believes, comes in her mannerisms. She does not smile, does not sway, does not grab for her mother's hand.

She is cold, he decides, and Loki does not like the cold.

Moments later he and Thor are called up to meet the young princess. They both are tall for their ages and tower over her. Her gold swirling eyes pause, the magic flowing through them stops and she looks at both princes and curtsies-it's clumsy. She isn't used to having to bow before anyone.

His father speaks, Loki doesn't listen. He's met nobles, royalty, and all sorts of people and it is always the same.

"It is an honor to meet both of you." Then there is her voice. Loki has to pick it apart. He doesn't know why, he just knows he has to. She's squeaky and even at six, her r's are not pronounced the way they should be. It annoys him.

Thor looks at Loki out of the corner of his eye. This summer will be long, he can already tell.

\- - - ♕ - - -

"You know," Thor looks at her, pudgy face bright as the sun that beams down on them during the humid days of summer. "They say we'll be wed one day."

The two princes and the princess sitting in the overgrown garden all look at each other at this moment. Round-faced and wide-eyed like one of them had just told the worst kept secret in the world. Frigga's master creation, they are hidden away in a thornless blue rose bush. Each day for the past three weeks they have come to congregate in this large bush and share dessert cakes they have stolen from the kitchen when no one was looking. Pretending that the true reason she's there is not about the politics none of their young minds fully understand.

Her lips curl downward, small hands holding a golden peach tart, and says with absolute disgust, "no, I will marry _one_ of the Odinson's. That doesn't mean it will be _you_."

Thor laughs, his small voice dancing through the leaves and stems. If anyone was looking for them, they would surely hear his laugher.

The young girl sticks her tongue out at his laughter and continues, "I haven't chosen yet, but perhaps your mother will have another son who is far nicer than either of you." She breathes in and takes a bite of the tart.

Loki doesn't react to this. He doesn't care what the adults in the palace keep saying, she will pick Thor. There is no competition. Loki would not have her even if she did prefer him. Her facial expressions remain so neutral in the presence of anyone but Thor and himself, she is not affectionate, and she rarely speaks to anyone outside of the two of them and her handmaiden. She is far too glacial.

The bush moves, one of the many servants peeks her head in, "there you three are, the Allmother is looking for Prince Loki, it's time for his seiðr lesson."

Loki nods and drops his pastry into the young girl's lap before crawling out of the bush. He never really talks when the three of them are together, she's come to realize. He simply eats what is given to him and then leaves. It isn't like she minds, she talks enough for the three of them and some combined. He listens well too, she likes it. Still, she wishes he'd say something sometimes. Maybe nod in acknowledgment.

"Is there something wrong with him?" Loki's silence is becoming suffocating to the point that she feels the unresolvable need to fill in space even more than usual.

"Something wrong with Loki?" Thor contorts his face as if she asked him the stupidest question in the entire nine realms. "No, he's just quiet."

The entrance to their small hideaway stands wide open without Loki's magic to keep it closed. A cool breeze is now ushering its way in to fill the void that was once the black-haired boy. She, so young and warm, shivers at it and wonders why he always leaves iciness in his wake. Her eyes look out towards the glistening stream that runs by the brush of the exotic rose bush and ponders on the thought that this is what summer will be like until she turns twenty-one years.

Quickly the three pastries are finished by the last two children and they crawl from the bush that is wilting from the cold. Small hands clasped together, they walk back into the castle in search of their handmaidens.

"I don't plan on marrying either of you." Her head shakes at the thought of it. It's almost disgusting to her, the idea of marrying either of the Asgardian princes. For a child so young, she has no ideas of marriage. No gown, no feast, no castle away from her home.

Thor doesn't acknowledge this statement. He knows better than to do that. "I think that Degmar should be waiting on the sparring ground. That's where we should go." He pulls her forward and through the empty halls.

The girl stumbles behind him, little legs trying to keep up with his. "I won't marry either of you, I hate Asgard."

"You talk too much." Acrimony in his voice, she stops herself from talking and instead takes up squashing the tears that have risen due to his tone.

\- - - ♕ - - -

"Chin up, Loki." Frigga directs her son, taking her hand and pushing his face up. Recently the boy was making a simple mistake after a simple mistake. Things he should know better than to do.

"Yes ma'am, I know." He sighs and continues to attempt the spell his mother has given him to learn today.

She watches him, revels in the way his magic glitters and sparks as he conjures the power from within his soul. Naturally, she has taken note that in the past three weeks her youngest has become increasingly distant and frustrated with even the smallest tasks. His simple mistakes, how he interacts with the servants and his friends. His attitude has become disheveled; his tongue seems to have died in his mouth.

"What ails you, Loki?" It's less a question, but she entertains the boy enough not to outright ask. It will only upset him more.

Loki shrugs as if his mother wasn't raised by witches and didn't know practically everything. Especially about him, her sunbeam. He shrugs because he doesn't want his mother to know that he dislikes the girl that she believes will marry him one day. He doesn't want to upset her.

Frigga tuts and then sits beside him. "It's Asherah. Isn't it? You've behaved oddly since her arrival."

"She's annoying." He grumbles under his breath. "I wish father would never have agreed to let her stay here."

His mother nods and continues, "you know that this is for the better of Asgard, and our duty is to our people."

His knuckles turn white and he slams his thin body into the seat below him. Back taut; hands clamped so tightly shut that his nails start digging uncomfortably at his skin. "Yes well, she will pick Thor so I don't see why I must amuse her too. She's a little girl."

"Oh?" Frigga chuckles, "and are you not a little boy?"

It does not take a witch to realize this has less to do with the girl's behavior and more to do with Loki's jealousy. Still, she feels guilty, she was hoping it wouldn't start until he was much older. Her intervening had not paid off and he was still a mere child.

He deflates and looks towards the window out at the sparring grounds. Thor and Asherah's laughter echoes up and into the room, engulfing him in an unnecessary blanket of rancor. He both wishes he could go out with them and is happy that he must stay in with his mother. The large emotions in his little body were wreaking havoc. Never before had he been so vexed by his brother. It bothers him, the way the girl annoys him but how he wishes she'd show him the same attention she gives his brother.

He's seven, and things are complicated.

Frigga places a hand on his son's shoulder, "you're too young to worry, don't count yourself out yet. There are many more summers ahead of you. She may just grow on you."


	2. Chapter 2

Loki dreads seeing her. He dreads the way the summer will go. How the summer always goes. The handmaidens and his mother have come to tell him that he must get ready for her arrival; he prefers to sit in his study. He favors writing and practicing his spells and illusions. There are so many things he'd sooner do than see this little girl. He can't, however, due to the erratic knocking at his door.  
"Go away, Thor." He calls, scribbling in one of his many battered journals.

The door still opens, Thor stomps in and wraps his arm around his brother. "Oh, but brother, Her Royal Highness, Princess Asherah of Centarui will be here shortly," Thor says before looking down at his brother, who's dressed in his casual day attire, "And you are not dressed, why?"

Loki sighs and shrugs his brother's arm off, quickly standing from his desk. "Thor, if I wished to see Asherah, I would." He was a ten-year-old cynic. That cynism has been there for years; that's what living for hundreds of years will do to you. It will age you mentally long before you are aged physically.

"You can't ignore her forever," Thor chastises and walks back towards his door, "I would like a little bit of a challenge."

"I can... and I will ignore her." Loki was not going to play his brother's game, even with a cold little girl from a cold planet.

\- - - ♕ - - -

Thor is right. Loki is unable to avoid her; she is nine and loud and demanding. He avoids her for the entirety of two weeks before she, ever so sweetly, comes to Frigga and asks if Loki will please have tea with her-Frigga agrees, of course.

"You want me to play with a child." He grumbles as he does every summer.

Frigga has grown used to it. He gets this way a few weeks before summer; the horrid attitude will stay until the young princess leaves. As frustrating as it is, this is not the first time, nor is it the last time they will have this argument.

"She wants to spend time with you. There is only so much time a young girl can spend with a boy like Thor before they crave something else." Frigga smiles, "Give her a chance."

Frigga always tells him to give people chances. He isn't aware of it-he never will be either-but she's trying to guide him towards the light.

"She is going to marry Thor." Loki retorts.

Frigga closes her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose. This conversation the two have been having has been going on for the entirety of his lesson. Frigga has yet to make any progress either.

"Loki," she places a hand on her shoulder, "you both are still children. You have many years before she makes her decision."

Loki doesn't meet her eyes when he continues, "I've told you before, she will pick Thor just like everyone else."

Frigga squeezes her hand, "well, if you are so adamant that she will marry Thor, you might as well create a bond with your future sister."

He looks at his mother from the corner of his eyes. "Really?"

Frigga nods to him, "yes, I feel that any woman who marries Thor will need a special bond with you to get through his... antics."

It wasn't lost on him what she meant by his antics. Thor, even at the age of eleven, was a notorious flirt. He would kiss the young maidens in the garden, under their magic blue rose bush. Theirs. Not his to taint. However, this flirtatious behavior would likely persist into adulthood; it often did. It frequently gets worse with age; he'd seen it with his father.

"I suppose she could be my friend," Loki pauses, stares out the window, and chews his lip before continuing hastily, "but it doesn't mean she isn't insufferable."

Frigga gives an exasperated laugh before sending Loki on his way. "Please, use kind words when addressing her. She is a princess, after all."

Loki nods before walking down towards the corridor towards the small tea room the children use to entertain their friends.

He enters, feeling childish for participating in such an activity. What he really can't believe is that his mother let the little girl bat her eyelashes and pout her lip so she could get her way. Nonetheless, he likes the idea of having a friend that wants him.

"Hello, Loki. I'm happy you're _finally_ here." She's already sitting in her fluffy dress. Her eyes are swirling gold again; Loki believes they only do this when she's excited. He's noticed through the last few summers that her eyes will only do this on occasion. When Thor messes up during his sparring or when Loki's spells backfire in public. He thinks she's cruel.

Loki walks and makes his way towards the little table. If his eyes swirled when he was pleased, they would be stagnant right now. "Hello, Asherah. I'm here against my own free will."

"I know." She hums.

"We're having Yellowfane tea today. It's from Centarui." Her bug eyes stare into his; he notices, for the first time he's known her, just how pale her skin is. If she were any paler, she'd be translucent. Of course, the Centarui people have a paler-than snow complexion and silver hair. They even have pointed ears and slightly sharper teeth than any Asgardian, but he never noticed just how unlike himself she was. Asherah, he realizes all of a sudden, is a different species of Humanoid. How out of place she must feel, Loki also realizes, on a planet where not another soul looks like her.

Loki is silent too long. Too lost in thought to noticed that a bit of time has elapsed before she continues. "My mama says it's a good peace offering. It's quite sweet."

"Why would you offer me your tea. Do you think I value something so trivial?" Over the past three summers, she has never cared to engage with him before. He remembers that she has always preferred the company of Thor over himself. Last summer, the princess and his brother walked hand in hand during the summer festivals. They left Loki behind to meander by his mother's side. They ran around in the bright colors of the firelights that night without him.

"You don't like me. I know because you don't write me over the other seasons like Thor, and you avoid me when I am here." They're sitting across from each other, both rigid and uncertain.

"I've never liked you. You're annoying, and you don't include me in anything you do." Loki deadpans.

She stares at him. The handmaidens stand in silence; this is the most the young royals have ever spoken to each other. She breathes in slowly before picking up his small pink cup. "You've never liked me; you don't even want to talk to me. Why should I try?"

Loki does the same. He'd be lying to himself if he said the tea didn't smell divine. "You're trying now."

"I don't like to be disliked."

"You value other's opinions too much."

"I just want to be friends."

The two sit in silence for a while; Loki looks down at his tea. It swirls golden like her eyes, shimmering in the natural lighting. There are flower petals in the cup; however, they are not yellow like he would have assumed. They're a deep crimson. Nonetheless, the crimson does not stain the water. The longer the petals stay in the cup, the more profound the yellow becomes. It did not taste of anything though, it felt of something. It was something he could not quite place, something oddly familiar.

In the hundreds of years Loki has lived, no one has made him an exotic tea and requested his friendship. It's a peculiar feeling. Warmth blossoms in his chest, and he contemplates her request.  
He gently places the cup down on its saucer and nods. "We may be friends, but do not pretend to value me over my brother when we are older if you do not."

She nods.

Loki takes in a breath before leaning forward and plucking one of the tarts from the table in front of them. "Thor doesn't wish to have tea with you, does he?"

She almost smiles. Almost.

"No, he does not. He offered to take my sparring, but that isn't my particular talent."

Loki snickers and takes a bite of his tart. "I could have told you that." He gestures to her frilly dress. She had nothing else to wear other than frilly dresses that consumed her body and made her look delicate.

They both giggle.


	3. Chapter 3

"Asherah, will you be coming with me today?" Thor asks her, inviting her yet again to watch him spar. He had noticed that for the past three weeks, she and Loki had become closer. She was not spending every free moment with him, and although Thor asked his brother for a challenge, the young prince did not enjoy it. He wishes he would have never told him to talk to her. 

Asherah looks at him for a moment and shakes her head. "No, I promised Loki I would go with him to the library. I'll come with you after lunch." 

It isn't that Thor is mad; no, he wouldn't call it that. There is no reason to be upset at his brother. His brother is doing as he was told to by himself and their parents. Thor, however, had not expected her to enjoy spending time with Loki. His brother was not a warm and inviting presence in any room, and rarely was he without sharp remarks. 

"Oh, I understand. I hope the two of you have fun." It isn't fair for Thor to be upset. She spends half the day with Loki and half the day with him. Yet Thor can't help but be jealous at the loss of attention. He wanted all of her attention, and he did not wish to share it with his little brother. 

Thor stomps towards the sparring ground. 

Across the castle, tucked away in the library, Asherah and Loki sit together on a dark sofa created by his magic. "What shall you read for me today, Loki?"

Loki flicks through the books she had picked out for them to read. He stops on an old book written in the ancient language. 

"Not this one." Loki moves; sets it on the table beside them to be placed back where the book is supposed to be.

She leans across him; her ruffled dress is itchy against his skin. Her small hands go to grab the book, but he stops her. "Why not?"

Loki pushes her back and allows the silver-haired girl to readjust herself to sit more comfortably. He glances at the book out of the corner of his eye then moves to face her directly, pulling his feet onto the sofa. 

"That book is about the Frost Giant monsters. I don't want to read it." He isn't scared of the beasts, he tells himself. He's far too old to be scared of such things, but something about them stealing him away from his family has always made his skin crawl. His father would always give him a humorless look when he said this as if it wasn't anything more than a silly little children's tale. 

Asherah pushes forward, closer to Loki. "Are you scared of them?"

"Father used to say if we were not good, they would come and steal us away." His face gives it away that this story still frightens him. On her planet, stories about monsters stealing children are not customary. There is no reason to lie to children. False information is seen as heinous and troublesome to reteach. 

She grabs his hand in hers. "Then pick another one."

It only bothers Loki slightly that she is trying to comfort him. 

He moves away from her and begins to flick through the books again, trying to shake away the fear. He tells himself that there is no reason he should fear the Frost Giants.

He grabs a book, something from the human realm, and opens it. Asherah scoots closer as he starts to read and listens intently to the story of a hero who makes many mistakes across his life. 

\- - - ♕ - - - 

Thor does not feel like he should have to share Asherah's affection. Even now, in what he feels like should be their alone time, Loki has tagged along. He's beyond aggravated at this and, if it not for their mother, he would have told Loki to leave them hours ago. 

The younger two have been walking, hand in hand, through the vast fields in the back of the castle. He's decided that he will lead them out to the forest. As childish as it may be, he wants to scare them-Loki-a little. 

Asherah has asked him more than once what they are doing, but he doesn't answer her. She will reason with him, he knows it, and he doesn't wish to hear her mouth about it. 

The forest was soon approaching, and there was nothing that Thor wanted to do more at this moment than to leave his brother there. Let him roam for a while; then, he may learn his place. 

Despite ignoring Asherah's requests, Loki and Asherah are whispering between themselves. Thor can't hear what they're saying, but he's positive they've figured out where they're going. He isn't foolish about how Loki is. Even if he thinks he is. 

"Thor," Loki says and looks over at his older brother, "Mother says the forest is forbidden." 

They continue to walk a few more feet before Loki stops, halting Asherah with him. The two younger children stand, hand in hand, in front of the dark wood. His hand tightens against hers, and the prince begins to turn away and pull her with him. 

Thor turns to them. He notices Loki turning away, but he's upset, and he wants to teach him a lesson. "Are you scared of the forest?"

"Mother says-"

"What mother says doesn't matter. It is apart of the castle grounds; we, as the heirs to the throne, have the right to explore it." 

Asherah pulls Loki, but he doesn't move. "If the AllMother says we shouldn't go in there, then we shouldn't, Thor." 

Thor looks at them, standing in deafening contrast. For the past few summers, she has given him her undivided attention, and yet she has turned around and became fascinated with his brother. Suddenly they have some bond, something special. It doesn't feel fair to him-Thor is the one that should get all he wishes. If he wants her, Loki is supposed to allow that, as the younger brother. The younger brother should always bend to the elder's will. Thor breathes out, "he's just scared of it because he thinks there are monsters in them." 

Loki moves forward; towards his brother and lets go of Asherah's hand. "That's not true; it just isn't allowed."

She has never seen them argue. The two brothers got along well when she was around. There was no reason for them to be fighting now. Nor was there a reason for Thor to be leading them into the forest. She remembers Frigga telling her not to go out there when she arrived the first time, especially with night drawing near. 

Asherah waits, listening to the two brothers argue before she moves to interject herself into it. Whatever the problem, there is no reason it has to be solved with screaming. 

"I think we should all go back," Asherah says, walking towards the brothers. She grabs Loki's hand again and pulls him, and then she moves her other hand towards Thor's hand. "It's almost time for dinner."

Thor moves his hands away and looks at Loki. "Our father let me go into the forest."

Asherah pulls Loki again, and this time he follows behind her. Thor stomps behind them as they walk but, Thor's words do not leave Loki's mind. He hears them on a constant loop the entire walk back to the castle. He squeezes Asherah's hand; she squeezes his hand back. 

"I have a book that I wish to read tomorrow. I think you'll like it very much." She looks up at him; the gold in her eyes starts swirling, a hint of a smile on her lips. 

Thor looks at them. The two holding hands, her looking up at him, and Loki looking down at her. He decides that he'll have to try harder. Do things she likes too. He'll fake it until he can get her.


	4. Chapter 4

_Asherah,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. How is Centarui? And your studies? My seiðr has improved significantly since last summer. My illusions are far more believable; I can even make you appear differently than you are. Hopefully, this coming summer, we can trick Thor together. I'm sure he will appreciate it. Recently, you're all he speaks of. He may miss you. I do, as well. My mother says we are coming to the age where we will have to be escorted, even when we wish to take a roundabout the garden. It seems counterintuitive to me; how shall we enjoy a simple conversation if someones prying eyes are always watching._

_Do not worry your pretty little head; I plan to find a way around that before your arrival this summer. A gift should come attached to this. My mother insisted both Thor and I send you something. I hope you like what I've picked for you._

_Until this summer,_

_Loki_

Asherah sits on her bed in her family's castle. The letter sits on the blue duvet, and the box given to her by her handmaiden is in her lap. It is a simple brown box, no longer than the palm of her hand. When she opens it, a blue shimmering rose brooch sits on a bed of golden cloth. Sapphires are delicately placed to make the blooming flower, set in a golden base.

The white-haired girl smiles and immediately places it on her dress. She puts the box on her bed, beside the one Thor had sent as well. The young princess all but runs out of her room and towards her father's study to show him the lovely brooch.

"Papa," she squeals upon entering the room, "look at what Loki has given me, isn't it beautiful."

Her father looks up at her. The golden magic in her eyes swirls with excitement. However, all he can see are quick flashes of the brooch as his daughter swirls about the room. In his old age, his daughter's spry attitude has become a blessing. Very rarely do the people of Centarui show their emotions outwardly; he's always pleased when his youngest daughter seems to gleam.

As if on cue, another one of his children comes barging into his office. His eldest daughter walks straight into the room with not nearly as much glimmer on her face. "Papa, Novak has a girl in the courtyard again. Not even one of the nobility, just some random girl he found in the city."

Asherah stops her prancing when her sister enters the room. Instead, she stands still beside her father's chair and watches her sister stomp towards his desk.

"Istu, please lower your voice. It is uncivilized to scream about your brother's shortcomings." Their papa stands from his desk and turns to look at his youngest daughter once more. The swirling gold has halted in her eyes. "Asherah, that brooch is delightful. Remember to thank Prince Loki for such a lovely gift. When you return to Asgard this summer, you may bring Prince Thor and Prince Loki a gift."

The girl nods before walking towards her sister.

"I will send someone to deal with Novak. Istu, take your sister to the drawing-room." He nods and then gestures the two girls away. Both nod and then leave.

\- - - ♕ - - -

"Istu, will you miss us when you are married this spring?" Asherah asks her sister. Her sister is across the room by the fireplace, and Asherah is sat on the sofa by the window.

Istu crooks an eyebrow at her younger sister, "I do not plan on it."

Istu, of all the children, was the least emotionally invested in her sibling's lives. She felt that she'd been dealt the short end of the stick, especially when her father announced that Asherah would have the choice between the young Prince's of Asgard.

"What if you do? Will you be allowed to visit us?" She questions her sister again. There are many things, despite her extensive education, that she does not know about marriage. She likes to believe that all husbands are kind and understanding. However, the way Istu often speaks of her betrothed makes it seem the opposite. It slowly kills Asherah's fantasy of a loving husband.

Her sister places down her pen and looks over at her. "If my husband allows it, I shall visit mama. However, I will not be visiting you nor Novak."

Asherah makes a noise of acknowledgment before continuing. "What about Makkon?"

She shakes her head. "No, Makkon will be far too busy studying under father."

A few moments of silence pass between them. Outside they can hear Novak arguing with their father. Asherah knows he shouldn't have been with that girl; he is to marry during the fall when she returns from Asgard. His bride is a lovely girl from the nobility who always speaks kind words and brings gifts. He's foolish to not love her.

Asherah looks out the window, down at her father and older brother. "Is your betrothed nice? You said that you'll visit if he allows it."

Istu moves across the room and sits behind her sister. "He is nice enough."

Asherah has rested her head against the cold window. Novak is screaming now; he wishes to sow his wild oats before he marries. Their father will not allow that. "Do you not wish to marry him?"

She rolls her eyes. "Not everyone is as privileged as you, Asherah. We are not all blessed with a choice." Istu leans out and looks at her twin. "Papa has blessed you with the choice between two brothers from the most important Kingdom in the Nine Realms. All you have to do is pick the one you like best."

The two sisters watch their brother walk inside the palace. There is no talking to Novak; he has always been a wild spirit. Novak has no desire to marry, no want for a Title. He is content on living in the palace and fucking every pretty girl he finds.

Asherah flips around and looks at her sister. "I don't know who to pick."

Istu taps the rose brooch on her dress. "Lucky for you, you're only 12. There's plenty of time to figure it out. Besides, they will both change as they age; it will make it much easier on you."

Asherah sighs and stands. Now that Novak has had a tongue lashing, she can go back to her room. She knows her sister is right. At the end of the day, she is the only child with a choice. Istu and Novak were practically married off before they could toddle around the courtyard, and Makkon will be King. He was married at 18 to a girl he had never met.

She ponders these things. All she has to do is choose. No matter her choice, she will be well taken care of and respected by all she encounters. People would kill for their children to have Asherah's spot.

She will miss her family, she thinks. If she must choose someone to marry, the brother will have to be unlike Novak in every way, kinder than the man Istu is to wed. He should be more like her brother Makkon. Kind, gentlehanded, and devoted.

\- - - ♕ - - -

_Dear Loki,_

_Centarui is fine; it's so cold compared to Asgard. I wish you could come here and see it yourself. My studies are coming along nicely. My governess says that I am ahead of where she expected me to be at my age. I'm glad to hear that you are becoming a skilled sorcerer; Thor will not know what to do with us. Thank you for the lovely brooch. It shall be my most prized possession. However, please be careful while practicing. My mother says that one can get too caught up in magic and become lost in it._

_I look forward to seeing you this summer and exploring new places in Asgard. Please be certain to pick out only the best books for you to read to me in the library._

_Asherah_

Asherah seals the letter and places it on her dresser. When she returns to her bed, she picks on the box sent to her by Thor and looks at the soft grey fabric inside it. It came unaccompanied by a letter, just a box with a grey dress inside it.

It's a lovely dress, and she will wear it when she meets them this summer, but it feels like he had someone pick it out for her. He's been around her long enough to know that she prefers pinks, yellows, and purples. Not grey.

She hears Novak stomp by her door. He always does this when he and their father argue. He must stomp around the castle and annoy every person that lives and works here. Stringing out a line of curses, even damning his future wife to Hel.

She will not marry a man like Novak.


End file.
